Drabbles For Maria
by Madcow5678
Summary: Bringing back the songfic drabble challenge for my friend, Maria. I have only the length of a song to write a drabble inspired by it. And I have to write five of them. Pairings include Kevin M/Shelly, Kenny/Wendy and Stuart/Carol plus some stuff with Liane and with Butters for good measure. R&R please!


**So while I suggested my friend, Maria and I do the songfic drabble challenge for each other. Here are the ones she gave me. Posting this separately to my other songfic drabbles partly because it's a trade and partly because I think they're good enough to be separate. I know they're not much but please read and review.**

**South Park © Matt Stone and Trey Parker. All songs © to their original distributors and artists.**

* * *

><p><strong>Out There-Hunchback of Notre Dame Soundtrack<strong>

Butters was grounded. Again.

Not that he didn't deserve it, mind. Why, he'd sure been outta line this time, boy howdy!

Not putting Dad's socks back in colour order-well that was just _asking_ for trouble. He genuinely didn't know where Daddy's double-ended dildo'd gone, but it was probably his fault anyway. It usually was. Besides, Mom'd been quick to blame him, so it must have something to do with him.

He sighed. It sure was a nice day out today. From the corner of the street, he saw Karen McCormick and Christophe DeLorne walking down the street, and over there, the fellas were playing basketball. They were a man short, he noticed. He could be that extra man, he thought. Well, probably not, since he was such a weak little queerbait, but he could dream. If they'd only give him a chance, why he could even be good! He wasn't like Jimmy, who couldn't even catch because of his crutches.

Clyde Donovan looked up and saw him, "Hey Butters, c'mon, we need you"

"Oh uh, n-no, sorry, Clyde. I-I'm grounded. I'd better not."

Stan rolled his eyes, "Butters, you're 18 years old. Aren't you a little old to be grounded?"

Butters had no answer for that. Stan seemed to notice this and pressed on, "They're out anyway. Their car's gone. You could slip out and back in before they even come back."  
>"Well…m-maybe just this once"<p>

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><p><strong>Ordinary-Saving Jane<strong>

For as long as he could remember, ever since she'd punched him in the face back in 7th grade, Kevin McCormick had been in love with Shelly Marsh. He couldn't tell why. Maybe it was because Mom and Dad always hit each other. Maybe it was the adrenaline he'd felt in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was just because Shelly was honestly just so beautiful when she was mad. But he was, and that was all he knew.

Unfortunately, since that fateful day, when she'd needed to let off steam after failing a science test and took it out on him when he'd knocked into her, she'd completely ignored him. He secretly notived all the things that no one else seemed to. He'd learned guitar for her, on an old Spanish guitar with a warped back and missing tuning pegs that he'd found at the dump. He'd let his stubble grow out for her. He hadn't approached her-that wouldn't be right. Dad said girls like her didn't gate guys like him. Drunken piece of shit. He was right though. Not to mention Shelly always seemed to have some douchebag boyfriend who didn't deserve her. She'd been dating this latest one nearly three months now.

Kevin sighed and looked up at the sound of sudden footsteps. He sat up from the banks of Stark's Pond, where he was stretched out, the old guitar laying next to him and a crown of daisies in his hair. Karen had made them, before it got dark and he'd sent her home. About a hundred feet away, stood a figure, whose body was shaking with sobs. He quietly made his way over to her. His eyes straining in the dim light, he could tell it was Shelly.

"'Shelly?"

She gasped, mid-sob and looked up, "'S jus' me. I won' hurt ya though."

The girl said nothing and continued to cry. Kevin couldn't stand to see people cry. What would Kenny do?

"What's wrong, darlin'?"  
>"Zach…Zach d-d-dumped me. He said I wu-wuz a fat, frigid, ugly b-bitch"<p>

Kevin made a mental note to punch this Zach, whoever he was. Right now though, Shelly was what was important.

"You ain't fat. Or ugly. I think yer pretty."

"Y-you're just saying that."  
>"I ain't. But it's okay." There was silence for a moment, "Wanna come and sit a while with me?"<br>Shelly sniffed, "I'd like that"

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><p><strong>"Blinded By Love"-Lenka<strong>

Fuck.

He'd done it again. They'd been doing so good, Carol and him. They hadn't fought in almost a month. Not to say she wasn't just as bad-they both knew she was. He closed his eyes and tried to blot out the broken glass and the blood on his hands from punching the wall (He'd aimed for her but as usual, he'd missed). What was he was even doing?

She deserved better than him. Ever since he'd known her, he'd also known that. People had said it so much when they'd first got together. They'd said it less and less often. Recently, it had become "They deserve each other". That infuriated him-he might talk smack about his own wife, but that was allowed. Those assholes didn't know shit about her, or him. They didn't have any right.

He groaned, picked himself up off the ground and made his way to the bedroom, running his hands through his hair. He stood in the doorway and looked at her. Her blue eyes were blazing.

"'m sorry, honey. I fucked up."

She nodded, wordlessly. Her expression softened slightly,

"Let me bandage that hand fer you. Dumb prick."

* * *

><p><strong>"Even In Death"-Evanescence<strong>

Wendy hadn't imagined she'd ever feel like this. So empty yet so full of so many suppressed emotions. Then again, she'd never imagined she'd have to deal with the death of her boyfriend this young. Nor had she imagined that that boyfriend would be Kenny McCormick.

The two had barely had any time together. Six weeks, that was all. After years of seeming indifference to her, and some casual flirting, it had been a stolen kiss at the soup kitchen where Wendy volunteered and Kenny's family frequented when they were desperate, followed by Wendy's guilty conscience eating away at her for days before finally confessing everything to Stan. Poor dear. He did deserve better than that. After things had died down though, and Stan had given his blessing, she'd had just over a month with Kenny. Six brief weeks of snarky, perverted comments and late-night talks that had usually ended up just a little bit rawer than she intended, and late-night texts and flowers just because and star-gazing from the flat-bed of a truck. And the accident, him shoving her out of the way and taking the full force of the van for her.

As the slow, steady rain continued to fall as it had for days, the first tear slipped down Wendy's cheek. It was all her fault.

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><p><strong>"Your Congratulations" - Alanis Morissette<strong>

People aren't told often enough that they are beautiful or that they are enough. Liane Cartman possibly more than most. She'd always loved easily-if ever she met someone, she couldn't bear not to love them. It was her biggest asset and also her undoing. She couldn't bear not to love anyone. Except herself. Right from when she was young, she'd figured that probably had to come from someone else. A man. That's how the stories always went.

That's how it'd started. Tickets to a musical. A post-show blowjob. The guy telling his friends, who'd immediately started paying him to let them take her to shows and receive what was said to be the best oral sex in Colorado, if not the entire world. Then it became blowjobs without the shows. Then everything else without the shows. That's how it began. All for a lack of love.


End file.
